


The Line of Kings

by Orcish



Category: Warcraft (2016)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Incest, Polyamory, canon ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 11:45:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7436827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orcish/pseuds/Orcish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the king is exhausted, Lothar is there to share the burden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Line of Kings

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the movie. I haven't played the games myself, although I've seen others play them.

So many men dead. So many good soldiers fallen to the orcs, so many innocent villagers captured. 

Llane seemed exhausted and it was no surprise – the orcs kept on rampaging through their lands and there seemed to be nothing they could do to stop it. 

Taria looked at him, discreetly nodding her head towards her husband. Lothar nodded with an equally minimal gesture. 

When he entered the king’s rooms for ‘private council,’ his sister passed him on the door to the bedroom. She smiled at him, exhaustion clear on her face, and went to rest in the sitting area. 

Llane was in his nightclothes and still very beautiful in all his exhaustion. Lothar closed the door behind him and started to unbind his armor. Llane’s fingers tried to join him, but he patted them away. 

“I am still your king, Anduin,” Llane said. 

The tired smile accompanying the words was the first he had seen on the King’s face in days directed at anyone but his children, and he could not help but succumb to Llane’s will. 

“It is not the king’s job to remove his soldiers’ armor,” Lothar teased. 

“It is when the soldier is there to warm his bed,” Llane replied. 

The light banter relaxed them both and once they had Lothar’s armor stripped, he pulled the king into an embrace. Llane buried his face in Lothar’s neck, his breath tickling the sweaty skin. Lothar held him tighter for a moment before leading him to the bed. 

Llane opened beautifully beneath him, all worries forgotten for a moment as Lothar took control. He sucked on an earlobe as he moved inside his king and swallowed the small moans. 

Once they quieted down and pulled on their nightclothes, Lothar opened the door a crack before pulling Llane back into his arms. Taria entered the room with quiet feet and curled against her husband’s back, as if she, too, was trying to shield him from the world. 

In the early morning, the king resumed the war council with renewed energy and the siblings exchanged a private smile. Lothar knew that he’d return to warm the king’s bed soon, but that time it would likely be him spread beneath teasing fingers. 

Weeks later, when he held the king for the last time, high in the air on his loyal gryphon, Lothar swore to end the orcs. 

For Azeroth. For his king. For his friend and lover who left a wife and children behind. For the boy king who was too young to rule. For himself because he would not let the orcs steal anything else from him. 

The king was heavy in his arms and his beautiful dark eyes were closed. Lothar knew that he would never see that tired, yet teasing smile again and he _ached_.

When the people called for him, he made his pledge known. For Azeroth, for the king who was dead before Lothar could reach him. No orc would survive his wrath. 


End file.
